Of Light and Ashes
by Jade R. Rayne
Summary: AU:Walkers:05x10 - Her family and friends believed her to be dead-they had buried her with their own hands. And yet, there she stood, in the flesh. Something about her had changed. Something so drastic that they may never be able to trust her completely ever again. Will they accept her or will they kill her? If the latter, will Daryl let her slip away from him again? [Bethyl]
1. Prologue

_**Setting:**__ After 5 x 10; Walkers. _

**Warning: Not for the light-hearted (in the beginning). **

**Of Light and Ashes**  
_Prologue_

… _Join us…_

… _Join us… your suffering will vanish…_

… _Join us… and we will hunt as one..._

… _Join us… and you will be free…_

-0-

Something covered her. It was so cold. So dark… so heavy. It smelled of… dirt. The cold weight of the earth enveloped her body in a tight embrace, crushing her body with its hefty weight. She couldn't expand her chest—she couldn't breathe, yet she didn't need to. Her body recoiled in pain every time she felt her head pulsate from each heartbeat. She felt—dead. But the dead are… dead. They are not supposed to feel anything. Then why… why was she here?

_Where am I? _

Seconds passed to minutes, minutes to hours. Still, she was unable to move. Her eyes were opened—that much she knew. But there was nothing to see but darkness. She felt numb; unable to feel anything but the throbbing pain in her head. Panic set in, or so she thought. Her body remained as listless as it was when she had awoken.

_That's not right… that's not supposed to happen… Where am I? Where am I?!_

She willed her body to move—hoping for any part of treacherous body to respond. A blink of an eye lid, a twitch of her nose… something. Yet, she felt not a thing.

For hours she questioned her purpose, then pondered what could've caused her to be in such a state, then wondered what beautiful it would be to move. In circles and circles her thoughts went, until finally… even her thoughts went still.

-0-

She could feel warm and thick liquid in her hands. It was a welcoming change compared to her chilled body. Then she tasted the thick liquid in her lips, chunks of a warm mass filled her mouth as her treacherous body began to chew… What is this thing that is both satisfying and unsatisfying that she is consuming? She willed her eyes to open—but they already were. That much she knew of. Yet, her vision remained as pitch black as the time had last woken up to.

She could hear feral, animalistic growls besides her. A sensation of needing to run washed over her. But her body remained, her mouth noisily chomping at whatever her body craved. She wanted to scream and run. She wanted to see—to know. And yet, she couldn't.

_This isn't right…_ _Where am I?_ _What am I?_

She could feel her body move once more, lifting her wavering self onto her feet. Slowly, her treacherous body began stumbling towards a direction. North or south, east or west—she didn't know. She wanted to cry, to scream—to do something that showed her she was in control. No, her body was not her own. She was just here… trapped in the shell of what might be her body.

-0-

Snarls had awoken her from her restless slumber once more. This time however, it was unlike the rest. Some bright blinded her vision. Bright—_light_. She wanted to smile at the new discovery. After what seemed like an eternity, she was no longer swallowed up in darkness with only her hearing to clue her in.

Just as quickly as her happiness came, a sensation of grief and dread nearly drowned her when her blurred vision cleared just enough to see. She could see a little girl in front of her, hair as red and bright as… as what? She couldn't find the words to describe the frightened looking girl.

A terrified looking little girl, to be exact. Curiously, she pondered why this little girl would be crying in hysteria, her little arms wrapped around her own shoulders in a terrified embrace.

At first, she thought her body was heading towards her to comfort her—but what a fool she was. It was then when her uncontrollable body closed in on the little girl, she knew exactly why the redhead was so petrified. All around them were… creatures. These snarls and moans, the same sounds she had awoken to before, she finally discovered to whom—what they belonged to.

These things made her innards cringe with terror. She wanted about face and run in the opposite direction. These creatures—_things_… were rotten like…. like... a corpse. Tar-like saliva drenched their bottom jaws. It was almost as if they were drooling in anticipation, and they were heading straight towards the little girl.

She couldn't bear to watch. Even more desperately than before, she wanted to run away. It was then; she realized that her body was also heading towards the frightened little girl. Deprived—starving.

_No._

_ Please… no… Oh God… Please… I can't… Please… no!_

The walking corpses closed in on the little girl, their rotten tar-like saliva coated teeth sank into the pink supple flesh, devouring her arms then small, frail body, bit by bit. Her betraying body also closed in—her mouth watered in anticipation.

_ No… this… no! Stop! Stop! Please, stop! This isn't right…. This isn't right! _

She pleaded and willed her body to stop this insanity. As if driven her body was driven by the sole purpose to feed, her pleas went unanswered. The bright, viscous, red metallic blood coated her lips; her mouth eagerly chewed and swallowed the warm flesh.

_ Oh God, I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry!_

She was unable to advert her eyes. In the confines of her mind, she could see and feel what her body saw. She could see the life draining from the child's eyes as these creatures, herself included, devoured the helpless little child. She screamed in frustration and terror as loud as she could—and yet, the shell of her body kept on its task.

It was better when she didn't know. It was easy to cope with darkness and emptiness surrounding her. But now… now… she wanted to die. Death was better than witnessing oneself consuming another human. Human.

_Was I one of her kind? Or… was I … just like them… a walking dead?_

-0-

Days passed—that much she knew. With each passing day, the corpses around her slowed down, their state of decay growing greater and greater. But she wasn't. No. It was odd to her hands the same color as it had been the day she saw them. Her vision grew clearer and clearer by the day, but her left eye was noticeably unchanged—it was almost as if she was… healing in comparison while the others continued to rot.

What had set her apart from these walking corpses? Why did she continue to grow in strength as those surrounding her slowed? There were so many questions, none of which she knew will be answered.

_Why does it matter? _

All she could see and remember was the little girl's screams of terror as she was being torn apart. She could picture her sweet little face sometimes, smiling and laughing. Isn't that what children do—smile, play and laugh? A part of her wondered if she was ever a child—or human. She must've been at one point… just hours ago, she witnessed a frail old lady become one of them.

There were other _things_ feasting on her when her body had reached the body. The eyes of the old woman snapped opened—grey and clouded over like all the others around her. She almost wondered if her own eyes looked that way too. The way that the old woman looked up at her, it seemed as if she reached out to her, asking for help before she fell limp, then turned.

_Do I not look like the others?_

It didn't matter anyway—her body acted like one of them. And she had no control over it. She was trapped in this shell of a body… and that was the reality she was living in.

-0-

Time passed, the sun had set and risen again. This time, she found herself awakening beside something sparkling. Then, the sound of rushing water filled her ears. Water—river. The group of walking corpses she had been travelling with started to cross the raging river as if it didn't matter. The current was so strong, it carried away some of the creatures with a fierce sweep.

_No… it's suicide. We can't go in there! No!_

Her body continued to head towards the river, despite the impending danger that is sure to rip her body to shreds. As much as she wanted to die and do away with her existence, she didn't want to go this way. The creatures in front of her slowly disappeared in the waves, carried off to wherever the river goes.

She was next. She felt her body take a step into the muddy riverbank despite her desire to live and die another way. Her body grew heated and cold. She felt her heart starting to pound in her chest.

_No, stop! Stop! Don't take another step!_

Another step was taken closer to the raging waters.

_NO!_

Another step—her left foot sank at her weight in the muddy bank.

_**I refuse **__to take another step damn it! __**I won't!**_

She mentally braced herself to feel the cold rush of water, waiting for it to carry her traitorous body along the length of the river. Yet—it never came.

Her body remained still and as stiff as a rock as the other creatures from her travelling group disappeared beneath the waves. She felt her heart racing in her chest—it was such a new and odd sensation. It almost made her feel… alive.

She had stopped. She didn't let her body blindly follow the brainless group into the river. That had to mean something. That must've meant something.

_I can't be one of them… no I… I'm not. I'm different… I'm… I'm…_

There was something she was so desperately trying to find—something that had been nagging at her since the first time she had awoken from… _this_. There was no doubt in her mind that she is a human... was once a little girl… and maybe one day… an old woman.

There had to be more to her life than following the walking corpses and preying on humans. No, she will not do that anymore. No more. She was human—and humans don't eat other human beings.

_No, I __**am **__human. I __**am not**__ one of them. I… I… _

_I am… Beth…_

/

**JR –** Prologue! I'm discontinuing "Redemption" it was something I wrote out of anger… didn't think too much of it. I still plan to finish Georgia Peach, but just not any time soon.

I came up with this because of all the theories I read about Beth being alive still. Don't get me wrong, I am still Team Hope, but… things are looking pretty slim.

So, this is my take on "Beth's coming back" so to say. It will take a different turn. You'll just have to see if I decide to continue this. I don't know if people will enjoy this sort of Beth… if not, I might not continue it.

.

Please review or message me; let me know what you think! _**Yay or Nay?**_


	2. Struggling Man

**_Setting:_**_ After 5 x 10; Walkers, ASZ._

_** This is where I will split from the Show ** CAUTION: SPOILERS **_

**Of Light and Ashes**  
_Struggling Man_

It was the morning after Aaron offered him the job of a recruiter for Alexandria, and the sunrise couldn't come early enough for Daryl. He itched to go beyond the rusty metal walls—to hunt, to track, to do anything but wait idly by. He could've slipped out undetected in the cover of the night easily, but he had a reason to wait.

The soft creek of the front door from the house next to Rick's stole his attention. Speaking of the devil—here was the reason why he waited. Maggie. Daryl had no doubt that Glenn was helping the eldest Greene sister cope with her family's death, but one person could only do so much.

"Maggie," he called to her in his gruff voice.

"'Morning," she returned, her eyes rimmed with red. She had been crying again. "You're sure up early."

"Ain't got the mind to sleep," he shrugged it off, as it didn't faze him. He leaned over the porch railing to face Maggie as she drank from her mug—coffee, probably. In his hands, he held _her_ knife. It felt heavy in his hands, as if it almost felt wrong to do what he planned with it. But it was only right, or so he thought.

"Is that… hers?"

Daryl looked up from the sheathed knife in his hands to find unshed tears brimming in Maggie's eyes. Mutedly, he nodded. A mourning silence ensured between them, both grieving over the loss of a beloved friend, and little sister. The silence between them was drowned out by the soft rustling of the trees and the songs of the morning birds. The serenity soothed him as much as it unnerved him. He felt… guilty.

He was the last person from the prison who was with_ her_ after the Governor's rampage. _She_ was right in front of him when they were at Grady. There wasn't much he wanted to stay to _her_. At that moment, he was just damn happy to see _her_, though also royally pissed off at the cuts he seen on _her_ face. Then… that happiness disappeared when _that_ happened. It was so sudden, so odd that he didn't know what to make of it. He was supposed to find her, to protect her. Yet… her life slipped away right in front of him. The guilt he felt… it was indescribable.

Which is why he had to return her knife to her only surviving kin—Maggie. He felt damn unworthy to carry it around with him. He didn't deserve it. "Carol gave this to me a while ago. Might be a better idea to give it to y—"

"Keep it," she interrupted before he could finish his sentence.

He looked up at her then; his eyes must've seemed wary and unsure to her.

She shrugged at him, and then diverted her gaze to the knife in his hands. "I still think of her every day, of daddy, mom… and everyone else that we've lost to get where we are now. They're not here, but they're in here," she pressed a hand to her heart, a lone tear slipped from the corner of her eye. "I think of them every day… laughing and smiling in a place somewhere better than here. That knife… I don't need it to remember Beth. I have memories of her being happy before all this went down—and that's good enough for me. So keep it Daryl. I know she meant more to you than you let yourself realize."

He didn't know how to answer her. Was he so transparent about his feelings for _her_? Just exactly _what_ had he felt for her? No, correction—what did he feel for her still, even after her death? Whatever it was, it still beats within him. It still lives, despite the fact that she is gone. It had been twenty four days since he last seen her face at Grady. Shit, he didn't realize he was counting those days himself. Even then, he could still remember the night in the kitchen of the funeral home as if it happened last night. He revealed to her something even he couldn't quite understand at the time.

He wanted to protect her, to shield her away from the horrors of this hellish world. He wanted to preserve her hope for goodness in humanity, to preserve her radiant light. He should've known she was going to try to stop Dawn from forcing Noah back into the hospital. It was not in her character to let an innocent suffer. He should've never let her leave his side. He should've been more careful at the funeral home, more observant at the hospital.

Had he been more careful… maybe… Beth would still be alive. Maybe she could've explained to him the conflicting feelings that she stirred within him—emotions; feelings that he thought didn't exist for the likes of him. If Beth was keeping him company now, maybe he would have a fighting chance to defeat the sense of hopelessness and darkness that has consumed him whole.

Despite the fact that there are friendly people in Alexandria, and that his friends who became his family, he had never felt more alone… more hopeless than ever before.

-0-

The death of Noah brought a devastating blow to him, and the others. Maggie and Glenn had taken the boy's death pretty hard, as he did as well. Noah, the boy that Beth tried to save had passed just twenty four days after her death. It almost made her sacrifice seemed insignificant. It wasn't fair. Then again, living in a world where the dead became the undead, justice and fairness is almost nonexistent.

Three weeks had passed since the death of Noah and the others from the supply run to fix Alexandria's electricity grid. Everyone was slowly returning to their 'daily' lives. He would go on runs with Aaron to look for other survivors. Rick and Michonne patrolled camp; Sasha volunteered to stay as the main sentry for the watchtower. Everything almost seemed… normal.

Today was another routine run for the Alexandria recruiters. They hadn't been able to find anymore survivors ever since his group joined, though it was too early to stop trying. The motorcycle Aaron let him rebuild in his garage made him miss the one that he lost… it reminded him of the days he rode with Merle. Reckless and carefree—that's how he lived his life up until the world descended into hell. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that though, he had to focus while outside the safe zone.

Daryl signaled to Aaron, and then pulled his bike to the side of the asphalt road. They have reached the twenty mile mark outside Alexandria. This was the second time he was able to venture out past the fifteen mile radius before having to circle back to the town. Recently, walker activity had dwindled, and it unnerved him.

The apocalypse wasn't any closer to slowing down, for some reason though, the walkers had been sparse and few in between after the last horde that passed by fifteen days ago. Maybe the walkers had gotten the last of the survivors surrounding this area. It was the only logical explanation as to why they haven't found any humans yet.

"Should we turn around?" Aaron asked, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders.

Daryl shook his head, "Nah. I'm gonna take a look 'round." He parked his bike and paused momentarily, surveying the environment. All was quiet but of the sounds of the leaves rustling in the wind and the birds. It was eerie.

"Lead the way," his partner quipped.

He had adjusted to venturing out with Aaron. The fellow was talkative, but he was reliable when he needed him to be. Needless to say, he grew to tolerate his presence. It was more than he can say about the other inhabitants of Alexandria.

"So, Eric and I decided to see if we can find a dog or better yet, a cat. I know it's a lot of hassle, but man, who doesn't like cuddling up with their lover and a pet huh?" he chortled, following swiftly behind Daryl.

"I don't. Don't got time for that shit," Daryl all but sneered, keeping his eyes focused on their trek inside the forest. A distant sound caught his hearing. It almost sounded like a child singing—he wasn't quite sure. With Aaron's prattling, it was even harder to locate which direction the sound was coming from.

Aaron scoffed, and then laughed. "You don't like to do anything but hunt squirrels and work on that bike of yours. Which reminds me, it still amazes me that you got that fixed up so quickly. Eric's been hounding me to ask you to teach me—well him, really. What do you say?"

"Shut up," Daryl hissed out, holding up a hand behind him to silence his partner.

Thankfully, Aaron had enough wits about him to take the hint and he too, began listening for something out of the ordinary. It was faint, but it was there. A voice. Human's voice.

Aaron bent his knees and shifted into a crouching position right behind Daryl. "Dangerous?" He whispered, his voice tense and focused.

"Don't know," Daryl responded. "But it's coming from that direction," he pointed due west of them. The duo made their way closer to the source of the eerie sound. The closer they got, the more unnerving it became. A nibbling sensation began bubbling up in his spine, sending the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. There was something wrong. That voice. It sounded animalistic… like a walker—but yet… not.

_ "… fill… ing… glass… joy… you all…"_

The forest floor was littered with the bodies of the undead that had been mutilated. Slews of dismembered rotting limbs laid scattered in a giant pile against a nearby tree. Not too far from that pile laid a hill of corpses, rotting under the sunlight.

Daryl and Aaron were dozens of yards away from the rotting corpses, yet the stench was overpowering. Daryl motioned to his partner to stay low and quiet before making his way closer to the source of the voice. Despite the stomach roiling smell, Daryl had to be sure that whoever this sick person is, it won't cause trouble for his group back in Alexandria.

_ "Good night… and joy… be with… you all…"_

That voice.

No… it couldn't be…

_"… Of all the money… that e'er I had…" _

'_What the fuck is going on?'_ Daryl's heart lurched into his throat when that eerie voice began to mimic a voice he had grown fond of. It couldn't be though. She… she is dead… she… couldn't possibly be alive. Just exactly what is going on?

_"… And all the harm… that e'er I've… done…"_

The voice grew louder; the owner of the voice was just a few yards away from him. The crackling of leaves under the person's feet was too sure, too steady to belong to one of the undead. Then… a flash of blood stained blond hair came into view. It was unbound and wild, flying freely about her head as she separated the remains of the walkers into the different piles.

"Oh God… her clothes," Aaron whispered behind him. "What is she?"

Daryl was stunned—frozen in place at the sight before him. Was this another hallucination? He had dreamt of _her_ countless times. Each time, she would cry for his help, then only to turn around and told him '_everything will be okay. I am strong_' as if she never needed his help in the first place. But every time she appeared in his dreams, she looked beautiful—flawless as he remembered her to be.

Not this.

Her clothes… ripped and torn in various places, her jeans and what remained of her yellow, blood drenched shirt left little to the imagination. The cast on her wrist was drenched in deep crimson, almost black, blood. At her hip… rested an unsheathed, rusted machete.

No. This couldn't possibly be… no fucking way…

_"… Of all the comrades that e'er I had… they are sorry for my going away…"_

But that voice… that song….

_"… And all the sweethearts that e'er I had… They would wish me one more day to stay…"_

The voice crackled and gurgled some words but there was no denying the facts presented before him. This is…

"Beth…?" His own voice betrayed his sense of sanity and self-preservation when he called out to the figure. Aaron shuffled in anticipation, readying his weapon at the potentially deadly target in front of them.

The figure stilled and dropped the corpse, swaying a little as she straightened her back.

Daryl stepped away from Aaron and their hiding place, his weapon lowered but ready to strike. "Beth? Is… is that you?" He called to the figure again, his voice waivered with uncertainty.

She turned her head towards him ever so slightly, revealing a blood covered face and a bright blue colored eye. He faltered in his stance, his crossbow suddenly weighed heavier than a thousand bricks, he slumped to the floor—astounded.

Even if he saw just half of her face, covered with blood and guts… he recognized her.

It was her. It _is_ her—Beth.

The urge to pull her into his arms and to never let her out of his sight again washed over him. Without warning, he pulled himself into standing position and began heading towards her, tossing all cautions to the wind. "Beth," he called to her again.

He cursed when Beth drew her machete and aimed it at him, face to face.

He staggered in midstride when he noticed the obvious difference in Beth. The gunshot wound above her left eye somehow miraculously scabbed over. What was the most absurd were her eyes. Her eyes were wild—untamed. Her right eye was the beautiful shade of blue he remembered but her left eye—her left eye… what was supposed to be the same blue iris was replaced with a grey, cloudy color.

Then, she swung at him with the machete.

He dropped to the forest ground and rolled to his left in a swift move with his crossbow in hand. But he got back up and faced her again, trying to reason with her. "Beth. It's me. Put it down! I ain't going to hurt you, you know that… don't you?"

"Daryl, what are you doing? Get away from it!" Aaron shouted from his hiding spot.

Daryl ignored Aaron, his attention solely focused Beth. "Beth," he tried again, taking another step towards her. He was in shock when he saw her snarl at him. Just exactly… what has Beth become, he couldn't help but question if she was truly still human. He caught the glare of the rusted metal of the machete in his eyes and failed to effectively dodge her attack when she swung the weapon at him, though he dodged in enough time that it nicked his right arm.

"Shit, Daryl! Stay down; I'm going to get it!"

"No!" He howled and lurched towards Beth at the sound of the gun fire, hoping he would be able to push her out of safety. There was no doubt in his mind that Beth was standing in front of him.

This was, no—_is_ Beth… both alive… and not.

/

**JR -** :P lol… I think this is a crack fic. Beth's dead and alive y'all. Lol… Have I gone totally insane? Possibly. Probably. Most likely.

Sorry for the typos and stuff folks, it's 3 am in the morning… very tired…

Thanks for reading, please review! Next chapter coming as soon as I can write it!


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